


Cure for Anxiety

by Brixxen



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Dancer!Wooyoung, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Seonghwa just needs a hug, dancer!san, dealing with rape, writer!seonghwa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 05:06:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21192050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brixxen/pseuds/Brixxen
Summary: Park Seonghwa considered himself to be a coolheaded, patient and rational person for an unemployed 25 year old. He wasn’t spontaneous. His actions were always well thought out. He was always in control. He had to be.Or: Seonghwa just needs a break and Hongjoong delivers.





	Cure for Anxiety

**Author's Note:**

> First non-anime fanfic. It's short compared to my others but I'm testing the waters here. There is no graphic depictions of rape but it's mentioned.

Park Seonghwa considered himself to be a coolheaded, patient and rational person for an unemployed 25 year old. He wasn’t spontaneous. His actions were always well thought out. He was always in control. He had to be. 

His two roommates, Choi San and Jung Wooyoung, knew all this and respected it as best they could for being freshman college students and also high school sweethearts. They were both high energy, loud, messy, everything that Seonghwa wasn’t, but it worked for him. They provided a distraction while he floundered over his half finished novel that was a year past due. 

It was fine though.

He had it under control.

He was just taking a small break. All writers did it. He’d already published four books that were best sellers. He deserved a break. Just because his writers’ block happened around the same time as his anxiety attacks didn’t matter. He had that under control too. He just avoided anything that could cause panic or anxiety or sadness. Simple.

Seonghwa stirs the beef stew diligently, glancing at the wall clock and noting that the boys were running late. They were both majoring in performance art and had practically the same schedule. They were both amazing singers and dancers. Seonghwa would be envious if he was that type of person. He used to sing in high school and had liked it but he got stage fright at his first real performance and that was the end of that. 

Writing was more his speed. He could do it at home in silence without having to interact with anyone besides his editor who just emailed him. Though he had heard his editor had quit to pursue another career and he hadn’t heard from his new editor yet. That was four months ago. He didn’t mind though. The lack of pressure was a relief. 

He glances at the clock again. Where were they? 

A bang outside the door startles him and the loud voices of his roommates ring out sounding distressed. Seonghwa drops the spoon and rushes to the door, flinging it open just as Wooyoung reaches for it. The young dancer stumbles barely keeping himself upright and that’s when the older realizes there’s an unconscious body held up between the two. 

“What…” He stops, unable to process this new development.

“Hyung! Sorry we are late…” San murmurs looking sheepish. 

“We can explain in a minute.” Wooyoung steps into their living room leaving San no choice but to follow. Seonghwa watches them set the stranger down on the floor against their couch. 

A stranger was in his space. On his floor. He didn’t make enough food for four people. They didn’t have an extra bed. Should he get a blanket? Pillow? What was the procedure for this type of situation?

Seonghwa trembles as he watches the two younger guys inspect the man. 

Wooyoung looks up, his face going from tired to worried as he looks over the olders expression. “Hwa hyung. I’m sorry. This is my fault.” He stands taking a step towards Seonghwa but then stops reconsidering his actions. Seonghwa wasn’t a physical person. Not because he didn’t like them but because he was weak. Physically interaction made him weak. It made him dependant on that warmth and made it so hard when he felt cold again. 

“We watched him try to stop a purse snatcher and he got beat up pretty bad.” 

“We figured if he’s nice enough to help a stranger than he should be fine to bring in for a bit.” San pipes up from behind his boyfriend and Wooyoung nods, watching his hyungs face expectantly. 

What could Seonghwa say to that? He just had major trust issues with people. It wasn’t their fault he was like this. 

He clears his throat trying to remain calm. Trying to not show the panic. 

“Okay.” 

Wooyoung sighs in relief, thanks him and goes back to tending to their charge who was sporting a busted lip and blackening eye. 

He tries focusing on his breathing like his therapist recommended. The last thing he wanted to do was leave them with the stranger but the only thing he wanted to do was leave them. 

He bites his lip as the contradiction whirls around his head. Just go over there and help. The sooner he’s patched up the sooner he can leave and the sooner their home is normal again. 

Right. 

He steps towards them just as the stranger jerks upright, eyes wide. 

Wooyoung, being the vocal one in the group screams and jerks back. The stranger looks at him confused and then looks around, taking in their modest sized apartment. 

“Umm…” He trails off as his eyes fall on Seonghwa who was frozen in place. He couldn’t handle this situation. Maybe he was dreaming? Please god let him wake up. 

“D-don’t worry! We are here to help you.” San, bless him, draws the strangers gaze away from the oldest, letting him shrink back almost to the kitchen. 

“Help?” 

“Yeah! We saw you try and get that purse snatcher but he beat you up pretty good…” Wooyoung supplies recovering from his surprise. 

“Ah! That’s right!” The stranger exclaims, standing suddenly. He wobbles a little and the two boys steady him. “I was on my way-

Seonghwa doesn’t hear the rest. He’s shutting the door to his room before he even realizes what he’s doing. Wooyoung calls to him but then San shuts him up gently. Bless that boy. 

His heart was pounding. Hands sweaty. Throat closed up. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why? Why now? He leans back against his bedroom door willing himself to calm down. Just blank your mind like you always do. 

He breathes out hard as the strangers voice reaches him. “Is he okay? I should leave.” 

Yes please leave. Even as he thought it though he felt guilty. The guy got shit on for doing a good deed. 

Ah shit. The food. It was still on the burner. 

He trembles. Torn. This always happened. He was a naturally caring, giving person but when  _ this _ happened he didn’t want anything to do with anyone. 

“No no it’s okay really. He’s just really shy. Here’s a towel. Our shower is down the hall.” Ah perfect. He goes in the shower and it gives him time to dart out and finish dinner. 

He accomplishes his task, ignoring the worried looks from San and Wooyoung and steps back into his room with a small bowl of stew before the stranger is done with his shower. 

Tomorrow will be normal again. He exhales, feeling his heart slow. Tomorrow will be okay. 

xXx 

Tomorrow wasn’t okay. 

Seonghwa is trapped in the kitchen having been caught by the stranger as he grabbed some coffee, not realizing the guy had  _ spent the night _ . What the fuck were his boys thinking? 

“H-hey! Don’t be scared please!” The guys holding his hands up as if he was calming a raging animal. Maybe he was. Seonghwa felt like screaming right then but he kept it in like he always did. 

“Wooyoung insisted I sleep here until my concussion had passed. I didn’t realize they would leave this morning without waking me…or telling you apparently.” He shifts awkwardly and Seonghwa realizes he should say something. Anything. And then the guy runs his hand through his hair and Seonghwa notices the pinky is painted. Just the pinky. 

He jolts forward, grabbing the guys hand and looking at it. Someone else knew about this? The guy, surprisingly, didn’t recoil from the abrupt intrusion of his space. He stood still letting Seonghwa ran his thumb over the painted pinky. He remembered learning about this from a friend long ago who was abused. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time being young and stupid but then that friend had died leaving him feeling like he could’ve, no, he  _ should’ve _ done something. All the signs had been there. If only he had  _ listened _ . 

“Were you abused?” He says, voice strained. 

“No. But I know many who are.” His voice is soft, thoughtful, and it relaxes Seonghwa. 

“I see.” He looks up briefly, meeting bottomless black eyes that were watching him. Not judging. Just watching. He coughs, realizing he was still holding the man’s hand but it was so warm, he didn’t want to let go. When was the last time he had touched another person besides San and Wooyoung? 

One year. 

He drops the hand, taking a step back, ears burning in embarrassment. 

“Kim Hongjoong.” He says, not fazed at all by his weird behaviour. 

“P-park Seonghwa.” 

“Can I make you breakfast? That stew last night was amazing and I wanted to repay you and your roommates for your generous hospitality…” He trails off and Seonghwa realizes he was staring at him. Really looking at him now. 

“Uh sure. Feel free…” He looks away, shuffling to the bar to perch on one of the stools. This was so fucking bizarre. A stranger was in his kitchen, touching his things. Cooking for him. Invading his space. And all he can do is ogle him. Maybe San and Wooyoung had ulterior motives for picking this guy up? He knew they sometimes brought in a third guy for playing and this guy was...well...he was just Seonghwa’s type. It was almost comical. 

Hongjoong bustles around looking for ingredients. Seonghwa kept their fridge stocked so there was plenty of options. 

Fluffy strawberry red hair, dark eyes, ear piercings for days...he shifts on the seat, face heating as he skims over Hongjoongs backside. This was really unlike him. Or maybe it had just been a whole fucking year of no human contact and then this guy shows up and cooks him breakfast for gods sake. 

He was still human after all. Just a little messed up inside. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. 

“So, I’m pretty sure you are older than me. You’re a writer right, Hyung?” 

The question has him crashing back to reality and the calm atmosphere shatters. He stiffens in the seat suddenly feeling overexposed in the open room with this man he barely knew. 

He runs. Like he always does. Runs back to his room, away from the issues, the memories about  _ why  _ he wasn’t writing.

This time though he’s followed. Into his room. His safe space. 

He whips around, surprised to see Hongjoong there. He sinks to the ground, leaning against his bed unable to run any further. He was scared. Like that night. 

Seonghwa flinches from the other as he kneels but instead of being hit, he feels warm fingers on his cheeks, featherlight, cupping his face. “It’s okay. You are okay.” 

He shakes his head because no, he wasn’t. He hasn’t been okay in a long time. His friend died, he was outed and then raped by an adoring fan. He was trembling again, trying to disappear into his bed but the fingers stayed, holding him there. 

“Just let it out. It’s okay to let it out.” Hongjoong whispers. 

Why...why was this stranger so concerned? How did he know just what to say? Through the short time he tried counseling no one had told him that he was okay  _ now _ . That he could just  _ let it out _ . No. They said he would eventually be okay. That he had to stay strong and persevere. 

He curls into himself tightly as the tears come. He hadn’t cried in front of someone in over a decade but his body didn’t care. It felt good to let it out. All his frustration and hurt that had been simmering, waiting for  _ someone _ to tell him it was fucking okay to feel this way. 

Warm arms wrap around him and Hongjoong presses against his drawn up knees, hugging his balled up form. For some reason, the touch makes him cry harder, louder. He remembered everything so clearly. How scared he’d been. How no one came when he called for help. How the man kept saying he loved Seonghwa and wanted to be closer to him. 

Seonghwa leans back into his bed tossing his head back with a strangled cry. He fucking hated that person. A whole year of his life was gone because of that man. 

“Fuck him! Fuck! Fuck!” He yells up at his ceiling, not caring how psychotic he must look. He was pissed and tired and just...just fucking done. 

Soft hands grabs his cold ones, stopping him from hitting the floor. He didn’t even notice he was doing it. 

“Good. That’s good.” Hongjoongs voice murmurs. Seonghwa finally faces him then, face tear streaked, blotchy and red.

“Who are you?” He deadpans because it was too perfect. There was no way a stranger would know about his past.

Hongjoong actually laughs, giving his hands a squeeze but not pulling away. His laugh is nice. Actually, his whole face is pleasant to look at even through bleary eyes. 

“Kim Hongjoong.” His thumbs rub little circles against the backs of Seonghwas hands. The older waits because it looked like there was more to it. “I’m kind of...um...your new editor.” 

The front door bangs open and his friends' voices fill the silence. “Hyung?”

“Oh looks like he was going to cook something!” Their voices get closer and Seonghwa blinks. Finally processing what Hongjoong had said. 

“My…”

“Editor. Yes. I was on my way here when the purse theft happened. I tried to tell you yesterday but you left.” His hands squeeze the olders gently as the door behind them opens. 

Seonghwa looks up past Hongjoong to stare at the two. “Welcome home. Please meet my new editor, Kim Hongjoong.” He sounded calm, dazed.

He watches their eyes take in the hand holding, his blotchy face and who knows what kind of expression he was wearing, before Wooyoung snorts and busts out laughing. 

Seonghwa blinks again, confused, but allows Hongjoong to pull him up. “I was going to cook as a thank you for helping yesterday. Are you guys hungry?” 

“That’s a stupid question.” The oldest hears himself say and he’s in awe at the smile that spreads across the mans face. It might’ve been the adrenaline from screaming, from crying, from  _ feeling _ again. It might’ve just been coincidence. That Hongjoong just happened to be here when he finally snapped. He didn’t know. And right then, he didn’t care. He follows the others to the kitchen, letting San push him into a stool and grabbing the glass of wine from Wooyoung. 

They chat as Hongjoong cooks stir fry for them, talking happily like he belonged there. Like they had been friends for years. It felt like that. It was comfortable and  _ nice.  _

Seonghwa smiles slightly into his glass, letting the noises warm him and make him feel safe. Safer than he’s ever felt.

**Author's Note:**

> Might continue in a collection of one-shots. I adore ATEEZ and all the members just make my heart hurt with how much they care and how hard they work. 
> 
> Comments/kudos are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!


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